Normal Song
by shoetingstar
Summary: This is a little story about my lovely couple. An "Imagine you…" type story. You are on Cassie's shoes while dating Dean back in Athens, Ohio. After a LONG bout of writer's block, I found this a few notes I had started maybe a year ago, fleshed it out, cleaned it up and finished it. I have to share before I lose my nerve and I'm tired of waiting until I'm "perfect." Enjoy!


**Title** : Normal Song  
 **Author** : shoetingstar  
 **Fandom** : SPN  
 **Wordcount** : 1,863  
 **Rating** : MA rated talk, Y rating action-wise  
 **Characters** : Dean Winchester, Cassie Robinson, some Sam and John mentions.

 **Genre** : romantic angst with some sexy talk  
 **Disclaimer** : Dirty talk, heartbreak, death, loss, grief  
 **Summary** : This is a little story about my lovely couple. An "Imagine you…" type story. You are on Cassie's shoes while dating Dean back in Athens, Ohio. After a LONG bout of writer's block, I found this a few notes I had started maybe a year ago, fleshed it out, cleaned it up and finished it. I have to share before I lose my nerve and I'm tired of waiting until I'm "perfect" - so please forgive any overlooked mistakes. I appreciate you taken a few moments out of your day read Dean and Cassie's story. Shall, we begin…?

So, let's imagine you meet a boy.

First of all, he is hot as hell. Male model face with gorgeous green eyes, tall with the wide, strong shoulders you prefer; Bowlegged like your longing celebrity crush, Keanu Reeves….Just a heaping bowl of manly, goodness for your visual and sexual snacking purposes.

Your first impression: he's a total player, slightly immature, and doesn't take life serious. You are in college, you have goals and a career path you're determined to follow. You don't seem to have much in common. But chemistry can not be manufactured, and it is strong between you. The mutual attraction is undeniable.

You resign yourself to accepting that this will be only about the sex. You are not getting your heart deeply involved with anyone, but a girl does have other needs. And holy shit, it's the best

sex

of

your

life. Dean is on some next level shit that you've never experienced before. He leads you to do things you never thought you would try, let alone enjoy. Yes, even THAT.

Unexpectedly, he sticks around after these sessions and talks. . for Heaven's sake. He continually surprises you and challenges some of your former decisions about the type of person you thought he was. During these frequent talks you realize there is more to this guy than you originally imagined. Underneath that confident bravado lurks

a

thoughtful,

dare you say,

sensitive,

person? He actually listens to and your crazy rants about school, feminism, the lack racial representation on the local news staff. The very topics you were lead by your Ex to believe were too intense for others. Dean actually tries to get to know you, asking you a lot of unexpected questions. He went with you when volunteered at the local homeless shelter. Helping people by action, not lip service seems to be another thing you have in common.

You realize that are both closest to your Dads. Dad owns his own car dealership and is active in your hometown. Dean connects with his Dad through a mutual love of vintage cars, fishing trips (that's what you pretend he meant when he said "hunting" trips), and work.

He leaves town. You knew it was coming but you take it harder than you care to admit. You will never see him again, probably,

maybe,

you're sure

you won't. He is working in "the family business," which you're not sure about. Accident claim adjusters - they travel a lot. They investigate accidents for insurance companies. His mother died when he was a kid, and his dad was really messed up about it. He has a younger brother who "abandoned" (Dean's words) the family biz to go to college. He listens when you share your opinion that his brother may have just not done anything wrong by trying something different.

Lucky for you, there were no commitments made on you part. You're a realist, after all. He could easily have a girl-in-every-area-code type situation going on. Like the US Military you adopt the don't ask, don't tell policy. Again, no commitments were made. Of course, because life could never be too easy,

you can't

stop

thinking

about

him. You find yourself listening to the classic rock stations, _voluntarily_ …It's getting as bad as it could get.

You press on, throw yourself into school and work. You proudly tell yourself that you hadn't thought of him, like, all day (!), as you are thinking of him. You are completely NOT falling in love with this guy. Nope,. Not you. You are too smart to put your hopes into someone so…nomadic in his life, right?

Then he calls.  
"I can't stop thinking about you," he blurts out, in the middle of a catch-up session.  
"Well, that's nice, Dean. I appreciate that," is what you imagined saying. However, you open you big, beautiful mouth and admit that you feel the same way about him. Aarrgghh!  
"Can I see you again?"  
"Well, of course."  
It happens easier than you could have ever believed - you grow closer. He visits for a couple weeks,

leaves,

comes

back,

and leaves

again,

but you make this long- distance thing work. The relationship gets deeper, still. Soon you are telling him things you've never admitted out loud: your mom's racist father who was forbidden from having any contact with you, the asshole who broke your heart and who was now engaged to your former best friend…It pours out as you lay tangled in Dean's strong, muscled embrace. Of course this was usually after he fucked you **dizzy**, loved your body from head to toe like he was detailing his car. (With anyone else this would be unappealing. But Dean really took excellent, thorough care of his car.). The euphoric high that you created together massaged your emotional courage, causing the inner floodgates to open a little wider each time, and confessions poured out. At times, you could be just sitting in "Baby" (you have semi-mostly-accepted that you are actually dating a guy who treats his car like a woman), listening to the calming beat of the rain poured down outside, cocooned from the rest of the world and he would share little morsels of information about his past, and what he hoped for the future. That was the heart if it all: Hope. The light- bringing that happens in a real friendship.

Graduation was coming soon, and a few opportunities were on the table, back in your hometown and another market. You start to imagine and plan a future, and though you try and test, you can't see it all happening without Dean.

There

were

some

Red flags. His Dad is less than enthusiastic about the relationship and seems to worry that Dean will leave like his brother. And you wonder if he's really faithful while he's in the road for days or a couple weeks at a time. Nothing seems quite as stable or predictable as you would like. But God, you _love_ him. Therefore, the eventual cracks appear, as you knew they would.

******  
"So, your brother doesn't know about me?"

He was telling you about Sam possibly asking his girlfriend to marry him. Their communication was sporadic, but his younger brother would inform him about major news, usually after the fact. This time he wanted Dean's input beforehand and Dean was clear about his position. You were sitting in Baby, a couple hours after he got Sam's voicemail.

"It can't work."

The boy could be stubborn, digging his heels in when his position was challenged.

"They seem to have similar goals. From what you've told me he feels supported by her. I mean marriage is not my thing, but Sam is obviously more traditional than we are."  
Dean seemed surprised, definitely not happy about what you said  
" So you - we- are non-traditional? You don't want to get married?" Before you could answer or explore his question further, he moves on. "I mean…Forget it. Sam can't do this. It's not who we are."  
You don't waste your breath arguing when he's in this mood. You are intrigued by this situation, however.

"So what does Sam think of you and our relationship" I ask.  
It was THAT pause that pierced your happy bubble. It was a small hesitation, but it was there.

"He…He doesn't take me serious when it comes to, uh, you know- dating."

"So he thinks we're just casual?"  
"Do I have to remind you that the communication with my brother stinks?"  
"Ahhh….So you haven't told him you have a girlfriend. In fact, maybe you haven't even bothered to tell yourself."

It was awful timing. Your editor- took credit for your work, and then he had the nerve to imply that you didn't belong in that kind of work. And in spite of being careful with Dean, you had a false positive pregnancy that deepened your speculation about what a future with Dean Winchester would look like.

What kind if Dad would he be?

What kind of Partner/ Husband would he be?

Where would you even live?

You were ready to go into your apartment, alone to think about next step. You were a damn fool. (He has to be an Oscar-worthy actor to fool you.) He had never been serious about you. (But why would travel so far and so much to see you? Never once did he complain about driving so far).  
You were grabbing your purse, hand reaching for the door handle when he said it.  
"Cassie, I love you."  
"What?!"  
He reached over you and made sure the door was closed.  
He grabbed your hands, looked you deep in your eyes, and stated firmly, "I love you. And while I'm being completely honest…It scares the shit out of me. I don't know what I'm doing."  
"I need to trust you. I mean what are you doing when you're not with me? Do you know I've told my family about you?"  
"What did you tell them?" He smiled proudly. His enthusiasm nearly made you forget you were hurt and mad at him.  
"That you were handsome, funny, and that you take good care of me….Everything but the sexy parts."  
"You didn't tell Mom and Dad about that new position we tried last night? Or how big my C…?"  
"No! Especially, not about you being the biggest I've ever had."  
"Well, I like hearing that but your parents knowing would make family dinners seriously awkward  
Some of the tension is released as you laugh it out.

"Here's the truth. If I tell my little brother that I'm serious about this beautiful, smart, sexy girl, but NORMAL girl, things would never be the same because there will be tragic consequences."

(Normal?)  
"Did you grow up on a religious cult?"  
"No…"  
"Is it because I'm black."  
"Hell NO…"  
"Then what do mean by consequences?"  
He was silent, he looked inexplicably grief-stricken.  
Then something else struck me. In all this craziness I forgot to respond to the most important thing he said (besides the part about me being beautiful, sexy and smart…)  
"Dean, you wanna know when I knew I loved you and that I was all yours? Tracey's birthday party. You dressed up in pants of a non-denim quality and wore a tie for my boss's little fancy dinner. That alone was enough to warm my little pessimist heart. Then we get there and you held your own with all their little shallow concerns. But what really got me was the kids."  
"Haley and Henry? I mean how could you not feel sorry for a 10 year old with such a Grandpa- esque name?"  
"I hate to agree, but...Any how, none of them wanted to be bothered with kids and Tracey was stressed out and her husband was frankly useless, as usual. And you, Mr. Tough Guy charmed them, scooped them up took them to the play room and you were so good with them. I was able to imagine…"

Shit, you confessed more than you had intended.  
"Able to imagine…What?" He prompted.  
 _You're supposed to be a fearless journalist and you can't just say how you feel?_

You take a deep breath and went for it.  
"I could see us with a house full of family and friends and you being this…Dad. A great one."  
"you mean like a DILF?!"

" Not quite where I was going with it, but total DILF for me. In other news, I could see you being a great Dad."

"Don't sound so surprised!"  
"I'm sorry! So what other surprises do you have for me?"  
You had no idea at that time about

the

bomb

of a

secret he would drop on you soon enough..

Now, here you are.

You weren't sure he would have the same number, but it was working…ringing right now. You could feel your blood pressure rise, your heart speed up its beats…You hang up.  
But there would be no calming down for long while.

 _Okay, fearless, relatively successful journalist - where were your Lady-balls when you needed them?_ _And most of…Dad. You had to find out what really caused the accident that killed Daddy._

This time you stayed on the line. Dean answered on the 4th ring, sounding irritated, grumpy.  
"Dean?" Even though you knew it was him. Grief-brain was a bitch.  
"Yeah?" He was distracted.  
You felt dismissed, a totally irrational response…  
"Hi, this is…"  
" Cassie?!"  
"Yes." You feel relief mixed with nervousness, folded into and the constant mental and physical ache of unexpected LOSS…The tears refuse to leave you alone and to not be cried.  
"What's wrong?"  
How did he know? You can hear the worry in his voice.  
"Dean, it's my Dad."  
And here comes the burning eyes, the tears…  
"He was killed last night."  
"God, Cassie...I'm so sorry. I know how close you were."  
"Thank you. This will sound completely insane, and I feel silly for even asking you this, but…About your Family's Business, did you tell me the truth? Is that a real thing?"  
"Yes, it is, " he said with finality.  
You wiped the tears from your cheeks, hold back sniffles before you turn into a mess on the phone with your ex-boyfriend, who is probably still upset at you.  
"I have no right to ask you..."

"I'm there. Just tell me where."

And he came.

THE END.


End file.
